


little pieces of you

by Archadian_Skies



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Eventual Romance, Gen, M/M, Polyship Roadtrip, cape caem break
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-31
Updated: 2018-01-31
Packaged: 2019-03-11 18:09:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13529766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Archadian_Skies/pseuds/Archadian_Skies
Summary: His life has never truly been his, but Ignis will steal what he can, when he can, even if it goes against fates preordained.





	1. The Shield

**Author's Note:**

> For the tumblr prompt 'sea change' and 'illusion'

Cape Caem was nothing like Insomnia, and the wooden house was a far cry from the grandeur of the Citadel. It’s an unexpected, unplanned, literal sea change and they’re at the mercy of Crownsguards Monica and Dustin, and forever indebted to Jared Hester. 

They’re loosely confined to the area until Cid and Cindy finish fixing the Royal Vessel, and there’s little to do but garden and fish to wile the time away. The once Prince Regis had used the house and lighthouse as a base of sorts, and Ignis had caught Cid holding the framed photo in the dock more than once.

It was hard to picture King Regis at their age, on a roadtrip much like theirs, with companions much like his. Like father, like son; Regis and Noctis, Clarus and Gladiolus. The Princes and their Shields.

The Shield at present was sprawled on the couch, riveted to whatever historical romance novel he was currently devouring, claret eyes behind a pair of black framed glasses he’s taken to wearing as of late. His mane of hair was pulled into a messy bun atop his head, and he’s dressed in a black shirt with a thick cardigan and sweatpants. The sea breeze at night made the cape chillier, and it amused Ignis that even the behemoth that was Gladiolus Amicitia required a cardigan too. 

The younger Amicitia was fast asleep atop her brother, dressed in a hoodie far too large to be hers and a soft pair of flannel sleep pants. Tucked under one arm was a worn rabbit plush she’s had since she was a child, Ignis recognising it from the many times he interacted with Iris in the past.

It seemed an almost private moment, and Gladio looked softer than Ignis had ever seen him, and softer still with the way he had an arm draped over his sister protectively, comfortingly as she used him as a bed.

“Hey Big Guy.” Prompto greeted, smelling of the shoreline and eyes crinkled in amusement as he plopped himself down on the nearby armchair. “Iris all wiped out?”

“She’s not feeling well.” Gladio dropped his voice down so as not to wake her, and the lower octaves echoed in his chest and raced a shiver down Ignis’ spine.

“Oh?” Prompto’s smile vanished. “Can I get her anything? A potion? A remedy?”

“If you’ve got something that can wrangle a misbehaving uterus, by all means.” Gladio chuckled, delighting in the way Prompto fumbled.

“O-oh, uh-” The blond stammered, a faint flush of embarrassment on his cheeks. “W-well-”

“Don’t worry Blondie, she took some painkillers and is sleeping it off. I run a little warmer than most and she’s been doing this since she was a baby.” Gladio waved the book nonchalantly. “I’ll ply her with chocolate when she wakes up and she’ll be fine.”

Iris whined at the disturbance, squirming in his grasp. Gladio hushed her soothingly, rubbing her back and murmuring comforting nothings until she settled again. It was at odds with how he behaved usually- large and loud and brash.

Ignis found himself smiling, heart scrunching in fondness. Gladio caught his gaze and offered a lazy smile of his own.

Later when most of the household was in bed fast asleep, Gladio scrubbed the kitchen bench down as Ignis put away the last of the dry dishes.

The lack of an audience emboldened him, and Ignis reached out to run his palm along Gladio’s thick arm. His skin met warm wool, the cable knit cardigan bolstering the Shield’s capacity to run hot. Gladio’s brows drew together briefly in confusion.

“Where did you get this?” Ignis asked, hyper aware of the faint rosiness to Gladio’s cheeks.

“Err, in that mall near Iris’ school.” Gladio scratched the back of his head, as if searching for the memory. “We went shopping after one of her half days since they had an end of season sale on.” A casual shrug. Ignis hasn’t moved his hand.

“Mmm.” A hum of approval. “I like it, it feels comfortable.”

Gladio seemed unsure of how to progress through the situation, eyes searching Ignis’ face for an answer. “Uh, yeah, I like it too.”

“May I borrow it sometime?” Ignis moved his hand higher and higher, grazing over the boulder of his shoulder before fussing along the soft shawl collar. He heard and saw Gladio swallow thickly, the bob of his adam’s apple disturbing his throat.

“Sure if you want.” He mumbled, pulling away as if he couldn’t bear the situation any longer, tugging the cardigan off and holding it out to him.

“I didn’t mean now, Gladio.” Ignis laughed, accepting the article and tugging it on anyway. It’s predictably too big for him, and smelled like Gladio, like clean soap and coffee and Cape Caem sea salt. He wrapped his arms around himself in the semblance of an embrace, and Gladio playfully pulled the shawl collar up so it covered his nape and brushed his cheeks.

“Nice and cosy, Specs?”

“It’s almost engulfing me.” The thrill of his proximity made him chuckle, and in the dim light of the kitchen, Gladio’s eyes were the colour of wine and Ignis wanted to drown in them. “I’d imagine it’s what being hugged by you is like, what Iris is very used to.”

A moment of silence, not uncomfortable, but like a pause before the start of something new.

Gladio stepped forward and wrapped his arms around him, squeezing him close and resting his cheek atop his hair. Ignis felt his knees go weak, and he let out a shuddering sigh as if his body had been wound too tightly and this was blessed release.

“May I keep this for a little while?” He murmured into Gladio’s chest as he felt Gladio press a kiss into his hair, testing new grounds, new bounds, uncharted territory.

“Well, you’ve deprived me of one source of warmth so you’re just going to have to let me hold you and be another.” He explained matter of factly. Ignis tilted back in his grasp so Gladio could see him raise a brow.

“Is that so?”

“I’m afraid so.”

He was under no illusions that this easy domesticity, these easy quiet nights could remain as such forever. Soon they would board the Royal Vessel and set sail for Altissia, with the Oracle blazing the path to commune with the Astrals in order for Noctis to claim his birthright. The path ahead, much like the path behind, would be wrought with fire and blood, tears and heartache. 

They would seldom have moments like these, when the air was a gentle breeze that carried the sound of lapping waves and there were no foes to slay, no battles to wage until Noctis was crowned King. 

So perhaps because of that, in spite of that, Ignis decided he wouldn’t waste such a precious moment stolen from their world weary existence. Gladio’s stubble was rough against his palms as he cupped his face and guided the taller man to lean down. When he was met with no resistance, Ignis closed his eyes and kissed him. 

The Astrals pulled them all along, swept them up into a chess game that spanned the ages but they could not have this. This was theirs alone.


	2. The Heart

“Iggy it’s nippy out by the sea!” Prompto caught his wrist just as Ignis was about to step over the threshold of the house. He wore Gladio’s cardigan, wrapped up in his warmth, his affection (his love). He didn't think he needed much more outerwear; the weather seemed mild without being too chilly.

“I will be fine, I assure you.” Ignis tried to placate him, but the blond seemed unconvinced. “What do you suggest, then?”

“A scarf!” Prompto pointed at the one wrapped around his neck. “Keeps your throat warm.”

“I did not bring one on this trip.” Ignis frowned. “May I borrow one?”

“Oh, yeah I have another hang on!” The blond dashed away, and Gladio stepped aside to let him bound up the stairs. The Shield sported a knitted sweater this time, a deep forest green colour that sat well against his suntanned skin. 

“Don’t you eye this sweater too Ignis Scientia.” He mock warned and Ignis laughed as Gladio leaned down to nip his ear affectionately. “You already have my cardigan, you can’t have the sweater too.”

“I’ll swap every now and then.” Ignis declared, pressing a soft kiss to his mouth to temporarily wipe away that teasing grin. 

“Got it Iggy!” Prompto called from the stairs, skipping down two at a time before he pushed a fluffy cream scarf into his hands. “Here! You can have it, I got plenty I keep buying them I just like havin’ them y’know? It’s like an accessory while being warm, so it’s a win-win! Are we ready to go?”

It’s a breathless tumble of words as Ignis wrapped the scarf around his neck and it smelled like Prompto, like the shower gel he liked and the cheap deodorant he’s loyal to from the convenience stores found all over Lucis.

“Thank you Prompto.” Ignis smiled, and he saw Prompto’s breath hitch, like it stumbled, like it caught its toe and tripped. Before the boy could dart away, Ignis reached forward and grasped his wrist to anchor him to the spot.

Prompto, out of the four of them, wore his heart on his sleeve, his emotions on his face. It was never hard to gauge what he was feeling, because he laid himself bare at the world's mercy. It hadn't been kind to him, which was perhaps why they were so fond of the blond. He was the heart of the group, the most honest, most compassionate and openly so; Ignis had grown up in the world of royal politics were everyone wore masks and displays of emotion were akin to personally loading a bullet into the enemy's gun.

But the only civilian member of their crownsguard tempered their royal training, and at times it felt like Prompto was the only one who reminded them they were at their core just young men stumbling along the road of life. They were, to Prompto, just Noct and Specs and Big Guy, not Crown, Advisor and Shield. 

He felt Gladio's palm, warm and steady, press into the small of his back as if encouraging him forward. Ignis closed the ever vanishing distance between him and the blond, and gently met his lips with his own. Prompto let out a soft pleased sound, and when Ignis pulled away the boy chased him a little, missing the contact.

Gladio laughed, ever endeared, and moved in to fill the gap he left. 

Only the two of them wore scarves, so it was only Gladio whose rosy cheeks were commented upon by Noctis as Ignis and Prompto were lightning fast in hiding their smiles behind a soft woven barrier.


	3. The Crown

It’s not that he  _hated_  fishing, it was more that he felt nothing towards it at all. He was content to sit on a chair back at camp and tend to this and that. Further down by the shore he knew Noctis would be fishing, perhaps having cajoled Gladio into it too, with Prompto taking photos.

At camp it's cooler and quieter, and he could concentrate without the general hubbub that came with being around them. Ignis sighed, tugging the scarf up briefly so it touched the tip of his nose. He had Prompto’s love wrapped around him now too.

Months away from the Crown City had let him grow and discover many aspects about himself previously buried deep and ignored in favour of tending to his duties, in favour of _survival_. But he knew better now, that his duties need not bury him, bury his heart, turn him to stone unfeeling. That the friends at his side, the friends he’s known since childhood, were indeed the true loves of his soul. And he extended his love to them, in the hopes they would meet him in the middle. They did. They have.

Well, two of them have.

He could still taste their kisses on his tongue, feel the ghost of their touch embracing him. Gladio had grinned at him, as if he’d finally won a battle hard fought. Prompto had hummed a content little hum, like a puppy finally receiving the attention it begged for.

Ignis touched his lips, licked them, and he smiled because love was a silly dastardly thing wasn’t it? It was Cape Caem evening chills and cardigans and scarves, and camping out under the stars and defying them, stealing precious time from them before they would rip them apart. 

“Still awake up here, Specs?” Noctis popped into view, having left the fishing spot to check on him.

“Still awake, Noct.” He reassured with a nod. The sound of boots drawing ever nearer was followed by Noctis dropping down onto the seat opposite him with a tired sigh.

“I’ve caught us dinner  _and_  lunch tomorrow. And more. Hey, we can probably sell the rest at the town right? Or maybe just stockpile it for later? I’ve iced the fish so they’ll keep.”

“A sound idea, Noct.” Ignis smiled and nodded again.

The Prince yawned, sliding down to slouch in the seat and bringing one foot up to rest his ankle on his other knee.

“What’ve you been up to here anyway?”

“I’m compiling my new recipes.” He gestured at the pages spread over the small camp table he used for cooking. “I haven’t had the time recently and they were getting unruly.”

“Can’t have that can we?” Noctis teased with a laugh. He picked up the page closest to him, admiring the illustrated berry pastry and Ignis’ notes. “’Memory Lane Pastry’” he read aloud, tone softened with fondness. “Hey Iggy can I keep this?”

“It’s only a draft.” Ignis frowned, unwilling to part with something so unpolished.

“I like it.” Noctis shrugged, as if that answer alone would suffice in winning him over. It was. 

“Well…alright.”

“Ohhh I get it, I need to give you something in exchange right? Is that how it works?” Noctis laughed, eyes turning playful. “What did you give Gladdy and Prom for their clothes?”

Kisses. His love. His heart. His soul.

Ignis only smiled, leaving his seat to lean over the table. 

“What would you give me, Noctis? What may I have?”

Those blue eyes widened as Noctis swallowed with effort. He struggled a moment, brows creasing in thought as he laid the page back down on the table. 

“All that I am.” He said it with such conviction Ignis felt his heart clench painfully tight.

“That seems far too unfair an exchange for a simple drawing, Noct.” Ignis breathed, though it seemed a manual effort, a conscious activity now that Noctis was so close he could see the faint smattering of freckles starting to crop on his face from too much sun exposure.

“It’s not just a simple drawing, it’s twelve years of work, Ignis.” It’s not playfulness in his smile, but something tender and honest. “It’s twelve years of you trying to make a memory come alive. It’s twelve years of loyalty and friendship.”

 _And love_ , Ignis wanted to say. Loyalty, friendship and  _love._

“And love.” Noctis added, feather soft beneath his breath as if he hadn't meant to say it at all. 

The Astrals would face a reckoning unseen ever before, in the long span of their existence, when they attempt to take the Crown from Ignis Stupeo Scientia, he swore to them right then and there. 

It was a clumsy kiss, the angle off because Ignis was leaning over the camping table and Noctis was half out of his seat. It was clumsy and awkward and everything Ignis had longed for, dared to hope for, and would be willing to die for.

Perhaps that was what the Astrals would ask of him in exchange. He would do just that, if that's what it took to keep his light alive.

 

* * *

The kisses were fine, Ignis thought much later when they’re parked at the Cape Caem sign and were making their way back to their lodgings. More than fine, really, since he’s loved Noctis in various ways, shapes and hues since the day they met.

But he wore Prompto’s scarf around his neck and Gladio’s cardigan around his body, and he lacked something physical, something tangible from Noctis.

The warmth of the house hit them at once and suddenly everything was far too stiffling. Noctis shed his jacket and jumper, tossing them carelessly in the direction of the couch. His favourite shirt clung to his body, the black one with little skulls smattered at the neckline.

Ignis smiled to himself. Yes, that would do just fine.

 


End file.
